A/N: Hopefully this doesn't fail too hard. Beware of the f bomb and Edward's hormones.

Chapter 1.

Edward.

"Edward Masen, get up!" called Elizabeth Masen from downstairs. I could hear pots and pans being clanked about, probably on purpose to wake me the fuck up.

"Orrrrrite!" I yelled out. My voice was slow and slurred, as if I were suffering from a massive hangover. Funnily enough, I was. But I couldn't let mum know that. Although, I had this feeling in my gut that she knew what I did each night. What I put my body through. I just think she couldn't bear to admit it.

"Now, Edward, I mean it."

How intimidating, I thought to myself with a slight smirk.

Still, intimidating or not, I obeyed my mother and dragged my saggy body out of the comfort of my cheap, water-filled bed and shuffled into the bathroom to get ready for another oh-so exciting day at Phoenix Union. The people were dead shit losers, the teachers were lousy and the classes were uninteresting. Welcome to my life.

I studied myself in the small, dusty mirror of our dilapidated bathroom. It was a small room, so small you could barely take a step without bumping into the shower screen doors or the edge of the basin. The walls reflected my feelings. They were faded and stained, and the once delicate, vintage wallpaper was exactly that. Vintage. It was peeling around the edges and completely shredded off in some places. Yep. The walls looked exactly how I felt. I moved my eyes back to the rude-looking boy staring at me from inside the mirror. He had dark red bags under his green, watery eyes. I instinctively moved my hands to mess up my hair, and pulled out a few long, bronze strands in the process.

Was hair loss a side effect of getting drunk and high every night in your bedroom? Or maybe I just had alopecia. I put it down to the first option combined with the fact I had not eaten a proper meal since my father died. It happened five months ago. Edward Senior Cullen; a rising star in the boring world of banking back in jolly old Washington. He was a surly man, and I never felt that close to him, ever. But nonetheless, when he carked it, my mother and I fell apart. He'd always seemed so capable and strong to me, even if we rarely saw eye-to-eye, and his death caused dire after effects. Ever since he died in that gory car accident, I have spent every day thinking more and more negative as time progressed.

I didn't know what had gone wrong with me, but something had, and I didn't see a way to fix it. So I lived the lonely, endearing life of a teenage cynic. And to be completely honest, it wasn't much of a fucking life at all. I pretty much only lived to please my mother. She knew that. I knew that. We had an understanding.

I opted to skip my morning shower since I had barely any time left to get to school. Not that I cared, of course, but mum did.

"You don't look too crash hot" she said in a fake cheer, handing me a hot, steaming mug of black coffee. I took it gratefully and set it down next to the basin.

"Thanks" I muttered. She stayed in her place behind me, rubbing my shoulders in a soothing manner. I sighed and let her touch calm me down. She could tell I had been thinking about dad. She was always good at picking up on what was going on in my fucked up little mind. Thank God she didn't pick up everything, though. I turned to her and forced a smile. I could tell she didn't buy it, at all. Nobody would have. I could feel my eyes were tight and my forehead was crinkled into lines of worry and stress. She messed up my hair and left me to change for school.

I threw on a pair of faded black jeans and a worn, grey sweatshirt. I looked a lot like a homeless person, with my unruly hair, thick stubble and shabby clothes. Like most things, I didn't give a shit.

I took the hot mug downstairs with me, treading carefully on each step, since the house was near falling apart. I didn't trust the odd-smelling wood that held the house together.

"Ready?" asked mum, who was hovering over a recipe book and writing down what I assumed to be a shopping list.

"You're taking me?" I asked, sounding a little surprised. She waved her list at me and started to the front door.

"Shopping. I need to get all the fresh stuff before it's gone."

I shrugged and followed her out of the door, grabbing my ruined backpack off the broken couch on the way out. We got into her car, which would have been embarrassing to drive around in if I cared about shallow things like what type of car I was seen in. It was a small Ford that squeaked and groaned when driven, and I had to grind my teeth when the brakes were laid on. The screeching was almost unbearable.

School was on the way to the town, so mum had me out the front of the institution-like buildings before I had a chance to finish my coffee. I sculled it quickly, the coffee scolding my throat on the way down.

"Fucking hell!" I exclaimed. Mum shot me a stern look and shoved me out of the car. I stumbled for a while until I gained my balance, straightened up and swung my bag around my shoulders lazily. Yipee, another fun day at Phoenix Union! I couldn't help but think to myself sarcastically.

I did the walk of death up to the building that contained my locker – and about 1000 other people's. It was like I had to keep urging myself to move forward. I couldn't afford to skip another day of school, as tempting as it was. I arrived at my locker after a long walk up and froze at what I saw. Somebody had vandalized it.

'I hope you die like your fucking dad did, Masen' it read, in thick, black permanent marker. I hit my fists against the hard metal and held back a wince. My knuckles were throbbing but I kept hitting it, like if I hit it hard enough, my fists would connect with the little shit who wrote it.

I knew who did it so there was no use continuing to beat up my small, square locker. Taylor Carr, the head jock of the school. He had wispy blond hair and light blue eyes. I had overheard a group of giggling girls once, saying that he had the 'best body' in Arizona. What a stereotype, I know. I gave up and threw my bag inside, taking out my biology text book and a pen. I slammed the door shut loudly and people turned around to glare at me.

I shot them all a look that said 'fuck you all' and trudged off to first period in a worse mood than I started off in. Congratulations, Phoenix Union student body, you made my morning.

**

Biology was a pile of dog shit. There was no other way to put it. The teacher, Mr. Jerry, had a deep, boring voice that almost put me to sleep every class. He always wore a suit to school. For what reason? I had no idea. He looked ridiculous. I felt like walking up to him and shouting at him that he had nobody to impress because nobody paid attention to him anyway. But I held back. It was tough, but I did it. That morning he spent the whole time giving a lecture on apoptosis. Yeah, programmed cell death - I knew all about it already, since I had done advanced biology back in Washington.

Back then I was a gifted child, smiled upon by my classmates. Now, I was the weird kid who smelled like whisky. Oh, and a few of the guys here wanted to kill me because I got with all the chicks. Their girlfriends. To me, it was their faults for having such slutty girlfriends in the first place.

One particular time, and I remembered it like it had just happened, I had Samantha Golsin up against the hard wall of the gym exterior, fucking her brains out, and her boyfriend just happened to be inside the gym at the time. I couldn't shut her up as she moaned loudly like a trashy whore and screamed as she hit her climax. As soon as she fell limp against the wall, the back door opened and three heads pop out to see who was getting the root of their life. One was her brother, Timmy Golsin, the other was a friend of his and, of course, the last one was her boyfriend. Taylor Carr. He stared at me for a while, his eyes focusing on all of the finer details of our position. How I hand one of my hands resting on her clit, one up her shirt; fondling her incredibly large breasts. How she had a bundle of my hair in her hands and a red flush creeping up her neck.

I pulled out of her, zipped up and turned to the three. I smiled the biggest fucking smile I ever had, and they charged at me. I don't remember anything after that.

They must have got me good. But who cared? I got a good fuck out of Slutty Mc Whore.

Ever since then, the three of them have had a personal vendetta to hurt me in every way possible. But I had protection now. I smirked and patted the pocket knife resting in the front pocket of my jeans. Call me insane, but I didn't much feel like getting the shit beaten out of me every day. Once a week was fair enough, but any more and mum would throw a bitchfit.

Three more dull classes, then the bell sounded for lunch. I put my books into my locker and began my walk to the cafeteria with my iPod in hand. I had a small amount of change in my knife pocket. I'd probably buy just a Pepsi, like always.

It was then I first saw her.

Initially, I thought she was just another dumb slut getting way past second base with her jock boyfriend during school hours, but upon closer inspection I realised she was trying to fight off the great oaf who was harassing her. Her face was hidden by the oaf's shoulders, but I could feel her anxiety. The rest of the students just walked past, like it were no big deal. She was distraught and afraid and so…helpless.

In an act way out of character for me, I shoved my iPod in my pocket and grabbed onto the back of the oaf's jumper. I pulled him off of the girl and whirled him around. His face was a little red, like she had tried to slap him. He wore a cheeky grin and winked at me.

"Nothing to see here. Walk away."

"Get fucked" I spat at him, and reared my right fist back. He was too slow to see it coming. I drove my fist forward and connected with his perfectly sculptured nose – now a bloody mess. I laughed and did it again. And again. And again.

It was a wonder he didn't fight back. But I was glad, since he was a great deal taller than me and looked like he weighed twice as much.

"You…little…prick" he gasped out as he lay on the floor soaked in blood.

"That's rich" I said, amused. The girl he had been harassing let out a whimper and stared at me with wide eyes. They were gorgeous. Brown, sparkly and deep. Like I could fall into them any moment. It was then I took in the rest of her. She was beautiful; her ivory skin shone in the sunlight coming in through the high windows, creating an almost transparent effect. She had dark brown, wavy hair. It curled all the way down to her cute little hips. It was long and I instantly wanted to touch it.

"Are you okay?" I managed to ask. Wow, helpful Edward was really outdoing cynical Edward today. She nodded shakily at me and ran off. No thanks, no anything. I watched her tiny frame escape through the doors leading outside into the blistering heat, and frowned.

Last time I help anybody, I thought bitterly, strolling off to go buy my Pepsi. I left Mr. Oaf on the ground, withering in pain. Somebody would get him and take him to first aid soon. Hopefully not too soon, though. The fucker deserved to suffer.

Bella.

Of all the days I have spent at school, I have never had such a terrifying one. Even on my first day a few years ago when everybody had stared at me and giggled at my fashion sense, or lack thereof. That was upsetting. This was traumatizing. I didn't even know him. He smelled of sweat and cheap cologne. He was obviously a football player.

They were always the obnoxious ones.

I was minding my own business, making my way to get some lunch after a perfectly fine morning of classes that I surprisingly didn't hate, and he grabbed my arm. He grabbed my arm. What a jerk. He pushed me against a row of lockers and grinned at me playfully. It was as if he actually thought I wanted to be that close to his disgusting smell. I almost gagged.

"What's your name, pretty?"

He actually called me pretty. I slapped my forehead mentally.

"Bella Swan, and I don't want to know yours. Get off me" I said with the best attempt at sounding angry I could muster. He laughed at me and stroked a dinner plate-sized hand down my ribs.

"Playing hard to get."

"No. Get off me" I hissed. He threw his head back in roaring laughter, and I tried to escape. I wiggled out of his grasp and tried to walk off. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back literally kicking and screaming.

"Don't be like that, babe" he said, winking at me. Ugh. He winked. What a loser.

"Please, just let…"

I didn't get to finish my sentence. He moved his hands up my t-shirt and began placing rough kisses on my chin. I used all of my strength to move my hands and slap him. He didn't seem hurt at all. I rubbed my hands and whimpered as he kept on kissing me and touching me. I tried calling out, but nobody cared or noticed.

I regretted not making friends then.

I closed my eyes and began to fret. I was nothing more than a helpless little girl. I would just ride it out. He would go away soon.

At that thought, I felt his weight leave me and I opened my eyes carefully.

"Nothing to see here. Walk away" he said to a handsome boy who had intervened. My hero.

"Get fucked." The way the boy said fucked made me shiver. He was dangerous.

With that, he began to lay into the smelly football player. Handsome hit Football in the nose multiple times, and each time more blood spurted out. It made me feel ill. Blood didn't mix with me.

My stomach twisted into a tight knot as Football lay on the ground, swearing at Handsome.

I won't vomit. Don't vomit, Bella. You can't vomit.

I thought repeating that in my head would help. But it didn't. I felt my throat tighten and my stomach rumble. I was going to be sick. The smell of coppery blood was choking me and I knew I didn't have long left until I hurled.

Handsome turned to me, "Are you okay?" he asked in a voice of genuine concern. I went to answer, but I felt vomit pool in my mouth. It was gross. All I could do was nod and run for my life. Run, run, and run. As soon as I got outside, I vomited into the nearest rubbish bin.

"Gross!" exclaimed a group of nearby girls, heightening my embarrassment. I wiped the excess vomit off of my face a stumbled weakly to the bathroom, hoping I didn't have any evidence of my vomiting hidden in my hair or on my face. I pushed through the silver doors and ran straight to the basins. I splashed water on my face and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Look, Bella Swan is getting off on the water!" laughed Samantha Golsin from behind me. A few giggles followed and I groaned. The bitch patrol was in action.

"Gross, Swan, you smell worse than your singing" commented a short, chubby girl from behind Samantha. I didn't know her name, and I certainly had no idea how she knew about my singing. She had highly plucked eyebrows and enough makeup on to last her a year. I raised an eyebrow at her and she stuck her tongue out. Great, she had the mental age of a two year old.

"Yeah, okay" I muttered and walked out of the bathroom, soaking wet and smelling of puke. As I walked to the cafeteria to get some food in me before the next period, I thought of the boy who had saved me. I only got a small look at him – but it was enough to tell he was stunning. I remembered his silky, bronze hair that was messed up but in a way that looked professional. He had green eyes that I felt were staring right into my soul. His square jaw and slightly tanned skin were breathtaking. I felt as bad as the bitch patrol; drooling over some heartthrob like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

I filled my tray with an apple and a slice of cheese pizza and made my way outside to sit on the dusty ground. There was little to no grass around this part of town. Mostly concrete and dirt. I found it strangely beautiful.

I ate my pizza in peace. Everybody else was outside…except for a boy sitting underneath a lone tree. He was tapping his feet like he was listening to music. He looked tall from where I sat, and his bronze hair shone in the piercing sun. Bronze hair. It was him.

I got up with my tray and sauntered towards him nervously. He didn't notice me until I was standing right in front of him. He gasped and pulled his earphones out quickly.

"I thought you did a runner on me" he said with an arrogant kind of smirk. I rolled my eyes and plopped down in front of him.

"Make yourself at home" he said, raising his dark eyebrows.

"Gladly" I said, taking a small bite of my pizza. It didn't agree with my stomach, so I placed it back on the tray gingerly and played with my hair for something to do. I needed to distract myself from staring at him. He'd probably think I was some kind of nutcase.

"You have really long hair" he pointed out, placing one ear bud into his ear, leaving one free so he could hear me talk.

"Thanks?"

He chuckled at me and took a swig of his Pepsi.

"That your lunch?" I asked. He nodded and swallowed.

"Not hungry. What about you? You've hardly touched that greasy slice of pizza."

"I lost my appetite" I said darkly. He cocked his head to the side and stared at me. I met his gaze and had to look away before I got lost in his watery, bright green eyes.

"Because of that bastard?" I knew he meant Football.

"More what you did to him" I said meekly. He choked on his Pepsi.

"What?"

"Blood" I explained, "It nauseates me."

"You threw up?"

"Maybe."

He laughed. I shot him a glare.

"Sorry" he said, fiddling with his white iPod, "It's cute."

I glared at him again. He was calling me cute, and laughing at me, and probably mocking me in his head. And I didn't even know his name!

"What's you name?"

"Edward Masen. You?"

"Bella Swan" I said curtly. The bell rang and he shot up like his life depended on getting to class in time.

"What's the rush?" I asked, getting up slowly. I picked up my tray with the nibbled slice of pizza and uneaten apple.

"I have a good class next period" he reasoned. I smiled. I had a good class next, too.

"What class?"

"Literature."

"Me too" I said in surprise. He definitely didn't look like a literature fan.

"I've never noticed you in lit before" he said, walking with me back to the cafeteria. I shrugged.

"I sit up the front."

"I sit down the back" he smiled.

"Alone?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Alone."

There was an awkward silence as I dumped my tray and walked with Edward to the lockers. He cleared his throat finally.

"Sit with me?"

"Sure."

"This is my locker. See you in lit" he said in a final tone. I saw his locker had something black all over it.

"Hey – what's on your…?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Just stupid graffiti" he said too-quickly. I shrugged and walked to my own locker, gathering my things and walking to lit with a spring in my step.

I, Bella Swan, had made a friend.